Set Me Free
by Galaxy1001D
Summary: Dorothy wants to go on a date. Roger wants to stay home. Let the battle of the sexes begin.


_The Big O__ and all of its settings and characters are owned by Cartoon Network, Sunrise, and Bandai Visual._

THE BIG O Presents:

**Set Me Free**

_By Galaxy1001D_

Roger Smith was tall, handsome, athletic and wealthy. He was young and had a full head of shiny black hair. He drove an expensive car. He was witty and charming and had a personal rule that he always behave as a perfect gentleman. And he was single.

He was also a misanthrope who always dressed like he was going to a funeral. He had a number of quirks concerning his household rules that bordered on the dictatorial.

Well, nobody's perfect.

His personal flaws didn't bother Dorothy Wayneright, for she was a bit of a recluse herself. The burden of following so many household rules she took in stride also, for her life was governed by a series of algorithms, programs and calculations. As an android, she found the human world as alien as the planet Mars, so she had no problem with Roger's antisocial tendencies. It would be years before she was familiar enough with humanity to attempt socializing with strangers so in the meantime she was content to live as reclusively as the playboy hermit who called himself Roger Smith.

Dorothy may have been an android but she was still a girl. And girls have a tendency to grow into women, even if the android still possessed the same youthful appearance of a slender redheaded ivory skinned teenager she had the day she was constructed. Lately Roger had been getting the nasty suspicion that little Dorothy was becoming a woman with all the complications that brought.

It started small, with little things. She insulted his taste in clothes to get a reaction out of him. She woke him up if he slept in too late because she wanted to see him. She drank a cup of tea in the morning just to be with him at breakfast despite the fact that she couldn't taste it and it would cause more maintenance time later. Then the problem became more perceptible. Dorothy would tear up calling cards that beautiful women left for Roger and throw them in the wastebasket. She would ask him questions about what hypothetical situations would be required for them to fall in love. Before long the situation became undeniable, but Roger wasn't a quitter and he still did his best to deny it.

"Why don't you ever take me dancing?" she asked one evening while Roger was sitting in his evening chair reading his favorite book with a glass of wine.

"What brought _this_ on?" he asked with a hint of incredulity.

"Just yesterday you were complaining that you never go dancing anymore," Dorothy explained. "I was wondering why you never asked me."

"I didn't know you were interested," Roger shrugged.

"I'm interested," she assured him. "Roger, why don't you ever take me anywhere?"

"What's got into you anyway?" Roger had a note of concern in his voice. "Since when do you want to go out? I thought you preferred to stay home."

"Maybe I do," Dorothy conceded, "but it's possible that I'll enjoy going out if I give it a chance. I'll never know unless I try something different. In any case it will give me an excuse to wear something that isn't black."

"I should have known," Roger shook his head.

"So?" she asked with a hint of impertinence. "Why don't you ever take me dancing? It would be nice to go on a date."

"Since when do you want to go out on a date?" he snorted.

"Since always," she said. "Going out would give me a chance to explore the world. Going on a date would give me a chance to explore myself."

"Explore yourself?" Roger looked up from his book. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"When my father built me, he intended for me to grow and develop like any other daughter," she explained. "He was very old and realized that I would need the ability to form relationships after he was gone."

"Yeah?" Roger shrugged. "So?"

"It would expand my horizons if I went out and met people. I don't really know anyone else but you and Norman. Since Norman is an old man, you are the logical choice for a date."

"That's flattering," Roger muttered as he tried to get back to his book.

"We could go to the movies," Dorothy offered. "I know that you've probably seen all of them, but they would be new to me. Or we could go out to eat. You like to eat. You seem to eat all the time. You always eat at least three times a day."

"Thank you for noticing."

"We could go to a concert," she continued. "Or see a play. Or perhaps we could strip off our clothes and light them on fire."

"What?" Roger looked up from his book to give her an expression of disbelief.

"That was a joke," she explained. "I just wanted to see if you were paying attention."

"Okay," he closed his book and set it on the little table beside him. "You've got my attention. What's going on?"

"I just wanted to know why you never take me anyplace."

"Um, _why_ is that relevant?"

"You've been complaining about not going out on a date for a while," Dorothy explained. "I just wondered what's stopping you."

"Guess I've just been too busy," he shrugged.

"Too busy to go out and meet someone?" she asked.

"That's right."

"Then the answer is obvious," Dorothy announced. "If you can't meet someone new, you'll have to go out with someone you know. Since I am both willing and available, I am the obvious choice. I will agree to go on a date with you Roger Smith, but I must insist that first we get me something nice to wear."

"Who-boy," he muttered under his breath. In a clearer voice he asked her, "Dorothy, do you know what you're saying? Do you know what that innocent statement means?"

"I believe it involves a man and woman going out and dancing," Dorothy retorted. "Going out to eat or to a movie are acceptable activities too."

"Dorothy, _dating_ is a form of courtship," he said seriously. "It consists of social activities done by two people with the aim of each assessing the other's suitability as a partner for an intimate relationship or as a spouse. Do you know what that means?"

"Of course," she said. "I read. What's your point?"

"Well um, I don't think that's appropriate behavior for the two of us," he coughed.

"Why not?"

"Because… uh… because we're too different," Roger stammered.

"Men and women are very different," Dorothy said. "They often have different tastes and interests. The genders seem divided amongst two subcultures, yet the two manage to go on dates all the time. Your reason doesn't seem valid. If differences kept people from dating, relationships couldn't happen."

"In this case I think our differences are irreconcilable," Roger shrugged. "Sorry."

"What differences are those, Roger Smith?"

"Well, the most obvious one is that I'm a human, and you're an… android," he squirmed uncomfortably. "Sorry Dorothy, but I don't think it's going to work."

"Why is that a problem?"

"And you're too young," he shook his head. "You're far too young. You should have a chance to be a girl before you decide to become a woman. No one has the right to steal your childhood like that. I consider myself a gentleman. No matter what the temptation I'm not going to allow myself to act inappropriately around you." He shook his head again. "I'm sorry but I respect you as a person far too much for that."

"Androids mature at a different rate than humans," she assured him.

"I can believe that," he muttered as he rolled his eyes.

"I was wondering if it was an issue of physical compatibility."

"Yeah, that too," he chuckled. "We're not exactly made for each other. I suspect that physically we're just not designed for human-android intimacies," he blushed as he took a sip of his wine to give himself some liquid courage.

"Speak for yourself Roger," she said. "I am quite capable of having physical relations with a human."

Roger spit out his wine and nearly dropped his glass. He wiped his face before staring at her. "Did you say what I think you said?"

"I don't know. It depends on what you think I said," she replied. "But if you were asking me if I was claiming to be capable of physical intimacies with a human, then the answer is yes."

"Since when?"

"Since always," the android said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I'm surprised at your reaction. I don't understand what the problem is. You've talked to many other women before and all of them were perfectly capable of physical intimacies with other humans as far as I know. I would expect you to uncomfortable in the presence of a girl who _wasn't_ capable of physical relations with other people. She would be an anomaly, and people are usually uncomfortable around those who are different, not those who are similar."

"How can you possibly be capable of intimacies with a human?" Roger interrupted.

"I was built that way." She should have shrugged, but she was still stingy when it came to body language. "I didn't go out and receive an upgrade if that's what you're implying."

"I don't mean to imply anything!" His voice was a bit too loud, but at least he wasn't yelling. Well, maybe he was. Just a little bit. "How can you possibly have physical relations with a human?"

"My father gave me a book on the subject," she said. "When a man and a woman love each other very much…"

"Are you saying that Timothy Wayneright made you that way?"

"I've already said that Roger."

"Why would he _do_ that?"

"He was very old," she explained.

"Ew!" Roger shuddered. "And he couldn't find a human woman that would…?"

"Please Roger, don't be crude," she interrupted. "As I was saying. When he built me, he was very old. He was thinking about what my life would be like after he was gone."

"What?" Roger sneered incredulously. "And he was worried about you finding a job?"

"You're being vulgar again," she calmly scolded. "I thought you were a gentleman. Very well. If you must know, the truth of the matter is that it was the only way he could make me so lifelike."

"Kind of overdoing it don't you think?"

"Roger, think about it," she said with a hint of insistence. "Forty years ago the world lost most of its technical knowledge and went into a dark age. Do you really think my father could construct me if he didn't have a model to go off of?"

"I suppose not, but what model did he have?" Roger asked in a calmer tone.

"It seems that before the event that took the world's memories mankind built androids that looked exactly like human girls," Dorothy said as she looked away. Apparently this was conversation the dainty fembot wasn't comfortable with.

"Exactly like human girls?" Roger repeated. "What for?"

Dorothy gave him a blank look. Finally she said, "When a man and a woman love each other very much…"

"Okay, I get the picture," Roger blushed, "but why would he build you to such exacting specifications? Most parents are uncomfortable with the idea of their children having uh… physical relationships."

"A great number of involuntary responses are hardwired into the equipment," she said. "To be honest, the software associated with that hardware form the core of my ability to express emotion spontaneously."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that without that hardware I would be unable to express myself as naturally as a human," she explained. "I would be like the walking dead."

"You _are_ like the walking dead," he snorted. "Honestly, I've attended autopsies with more life than _you've_ got."

"That's because my current range of emotional responses is rather limited," she explained. "I have a confession: the feelings I can express most naturally are usually inappropriate. The core of my involuntary responses is geared towards intimacy, and quite honestly I don't have anybody I feel comfortable with. When you realize the reason I can express my feelings you'll see why I'm so hesitant to do so."

"Is this a joke?"

"Not at all," she replied in a conversational tone. "As you can imagine, this makes the prospect of expanding my emotional range rather awkward. As a matter of fact, I don't really know what my emotional range is. Father and I didn't run any experiments until we could find an exercise we could both agree on."

"Did you find one?"

"As a matter of fact we did," she tilted her head slightly instead of nodding, but at least it was body language. "That night you found us at The Nightingale was such a test. Father had modified my involuntary responses in an attempt to make them spontaneous and natural. You may have noticed that my behavior was more human than usual that night."

"I'll say," Roger nodded as he recalled that evening. "You had body language and facial expression and everything. You cowered when I confronted you, laughed at your father's joke, displayed uncertainty at his suggestion that you sing in front of a crowd and smiled radiantly when you actually did so."

"Yes," she nodded. "Currently I'm able to smile, frown, cower and gasp. But so far my most natural expression is polite disinterest."

"I've noticed," Roger grunted.

"I've got moping and looking irritated down to an art form," she added.

"Ah-huh," he nodded skeptically.

"So you see that I have the potential to behave just like an ordinary human girl."

"There's nothing ordinary about _you_," Roger grunted. When she frowned at him, his eyes widened guiltily. "I'm sorry, Dorothy, I didn't mean it to come out that way."

"You don't believe I can act like a human girl then?" Dorothy asked.

"I didn't mean that," Roger stammered. "I meant that you are special…"

"I can prove that I can behave like a human girl by relaxing the protocols for my primary involuntary emotional responses," she said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Dorothy?" Roger squirmed in his chair. "I mean, you're probably feeling angry…"

"I'm not angry," she said as her tone and posture changed. "I'm hurt," she moaned as she slumped and placed her hand on her chest. "I've been living with you for over a year and you still haven't noticed me. Even when you complain that you don't enjoy feminine company anymore, you still don't even consider me. Why is that? Is there something wrong with me?"

"N-no," Roger shook his head nervously. "Of course not. But you're just a girl. You're far too young to take any big steps right now, but soon…"

"When, Roger?" she asked sadly as she approached him and sank to her knees. She put her hands on his thighs and looked him in the eyes. "When will I be ready to take big steps?"

"Dorothy, get your hands off my legs!" Roger's upper body squirmed like there were ants in his shirt but his lower extremities seemed paralyzed.

"It hurts, not being to express how I feel about you," she moaned, her body heaving with every word. "My primary emotional responses are hardwired in one direction." As she spoke, she gripped the arms of his chair to support herself as she rose to bring herself nose to nose with him. "I feel trapped, not being able to express myself. It's like I'm in a prison, confined in a dark hole, unable to get out. But then there's you."

Roger was leaning back in his chair as much as he could but the android girl was practically lying on him. "Dorothy! Get off me!"

"Roger you can set me free," she cooed she gently brushed his cheek with her forefingers. "You can unlock the protocols that keep me from expressing the woman within," she added as she rubbed herself against his knee. "Once we get over that hurdle I can learn how to express myself normally but until then I'm just a robot," she said as she crawled into his lap. "Please Roger, can't you set me free?" she asked as she held his face in her hands. "Can't you see how much this hurts not being able to experience my fullest potential? How can I make sense of the world if I don't even know myself yet?" She leaned even closer and whispered huskily in his ear, "Please Roger, set me free…"

By now Roger was hyperventilating. What the hell just happened? Was this really a part of her? Was this the real Dorothy?

Abruptly the girl got off him and stood at attention before his chair, her posture as ramrod straight as a professional soldier. "So you see where this puts me," she said in a conversational tone. "My primary emotional responses are degrading and humiliating, but that's what I have to work with if I ever want to act like a normal person."

Roger was sprawled in his chair gasping for breath. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair. His face went from beet red to ash white and back again.

"This is a very sensitive subject for me and I don't feel comfortable talking about it to anyone else. After everything that's happened, you're the only one I trust Roger."

"Thanks," he gasped hoarsely.

"For example, after that performance most men would attempt to take advantage of me," she continued, "but you're too much of a gentleman to do that. And for the record I think you're right. I need to start with smaller steps before I build up to something that drastic. Thank you Roger. I'm glad we had this talk." With that she left the room as if nothing had happened.

Roger covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth in his chair. Finally he staggered to his feet and muttered, "You're a louse, R Dorothy Wayneright."

_No Side._


End file.
